Waver
by Sanjikuu
Summary: "You are a toy for the pleasure of others." Read author's note for warnings. !Rewrite in progress! Prologue updated. Originally Floccinaucinihilipilificatio n. Prologue updated 12/11/2012.
1. Submit

**Author's Note: **Welcome to the rewrite of the prologue of my story 'Floccinaucinihilipilificatio n' (whose title I changed because really?). This will run along the same premise of the original, but will be formatted differently. It may take me a good long while to finish rewriting and get to more new content, seeing as I'm approaching finals.

For those who missed the summary, **a word of warning**. This story will not be happy. It will not be pretty. It is dark and nasty, centered around abduction, rape, the sex slave trade, and seriously screwing with someone's mind. If any of these disturb you, I encourage you to go back.

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_Good boy._

_Beg for it._

_You are nothing but a whore._

Shouting outside. Crashing. Breaking. Screams of terror.

_Who am I?_

_Say it._

_**Master.**_

Something slammer into the door. Light fluttered around the edges as it rattled inward.

_Your only purpose is to serve._

_You deserve nothing._

_You are a toy for the pleasure of others._

A voice. Familiar. Shouting a name the slave knew he recognized but couldn't place.

_Obey every command._

_Never disobey._

_Slave._

The wood creaked, groaned, gave. Two figures silhouetted by the blinding light.

_**Master?**_

All he could do, as Castor grabbed his shoulders and stared into his eyes, was rock his hips and moan.

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**Okay, so I'm working on rewriting the next chapter as I type this. And I must say...how do people manage to write so _much_? I've said all I need to say by 500 words! Anyway, you might have to wait a bit. Finals week is up.**


	2. A Trap Ch 1

(Disclaimer: Still don't own 07-Ghost...)

I told you I was posting again in a few minutes. Well, not much to say...

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_'Frau! We shouldn't be here! FRAU!' Despite his panted shout, the blonde bishop did nothing to indicate hearing his violet haired companion. He just kept running, kept chasing that vile wars to it's doom._

_A sudden overwhelming feel of sadness, hatred fear, disgust - a wars coalescing just to the side. A trap._

_Labrador instantly drew his scythe, preparing to protect himself and rid the world of this most foul demon if necessary. A quick glance confirmed what he had thought to be true - his companion, so dedicated to the chase, had continued after his prey, leaving the more vulnerable Ghost to fend for himself._

_The wars sprouting from the ground to his front drew his attention once more. 'Well, if you aren't a nasty one...' the bishop murmured thoughtlessly, staring into the swirling shadows that once was a pure human soul. He never saw it's companions coming._

_The gross darkness swarmed over Labrador from seemingly everywhere. From his left and right sides, from the wall behind him... one of the demons even managed to pop up from the ground beneath his feet._

_The fair bishop was momentarily stunned.**If you are too absorbed in one target**, he remembered, **you stand no chance if attacked by another.** Cursing in a highly uncharacteristic manner, the Ghost struggled against the groping shadows, swinging the scythe wildly through the air. Plants erupted from the street, pulling at the shadows threatening their beloved Profe to no avail._

_'Well lookit that! Those shady scum actually got us a treat!' A voice practically dripping with sarcasm spoke through the sounds of the struggle. 'You look like you might be able to get us a few yuus with a body like that! Now stop struggling, let me get a better look at that pretty face of yours...' With a snap of his fingers, the man standing against the far wall caused the wars to wrap tightly about Labrador's flailing arms and legs whilst simultaneously capturing the young bishops attention. The struggle was ceased momentarily._

_'Hmm...' The man slid away from the wall with cat-like grace, not making a sound. 'My guess was right,' a hand reached out and grabbed his captive's chin, twisting his head to both sides, inspecting the bishop as though he were a piece of meat. Labrador jerked back in shock, his eyes wide. **What...?** he thought, stunned. 'You will get us a good number of yuus. Though it seems... you might need some training before you're ready for the market, hmm?' The vile man dragged a tattered piece of cloth out of his jacket, shoving it brutally against Labrador's fair face. 'Sleep well, sweetling. You'll have a lot on your plate when you wake up.'_

_A muffled protest and a few weak pulls against the wars were all the bishop could manage before sliding into the haze of a drug-induced sleep. _

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More of a flashback than anything, but it is important. Please review!


	3. As Bright as the Light had been Ch 2

(Disclaimer: I don't own 07-Ghost...)

So, yeah. Did I mention I'm writing this at 2 in the morning? I'm tired, y'all...

And oh my God, I'm so scared I'm going to murder this story with a dull, rusty spoon...

Oh! Another thing. Sorry for the short chapters. I've never done a chapter story before, and it takes some getting used to... Ah well, enjoy the chapter. Labrador certainly isin't going to...

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Labrador had no way to mark time in the tiny cell of a room. The were no windows, no cracks in the wall... the only entrance and exit was a sturdy wooden door hanging on the far wall.

As for his personal situation, the bishop was less than satisfied. Whoever his captors were, they had stripped him of all his clothes, leaving his arms and legs tied to the posts of the bed he was laying on with a gag firmly set in his mouth. Labrador had tested the ties more times than he could count, but the only thing he got for his struggles were chaffed, painful wrists.

The young man had spent a great deal of his time keeping busy by inspecting as much of his surroundings as was visible. Just off the bed was an old and scarred table, made from some strange wood that Labrador couldn't put a name on in this light. _Perhaps oak,_ he thought, _or maybe maple..._ To the left of the door stood another similar table, though with a chair to accompany it this time. There was nothing more that he could see...

Eventually he took to naming all plants that grew in the coldest reaches of the Barsburg Empire. When he had finished with those, he started naming the plants that grew only in high altitudes, those that could be used to make soothing teas, plants that provided antidotes to poisons...

With all the softness of a summer storm, the door across from the bishop burst open noisily, slamming into the wall before almost slamming shut again from momentum. The sudden light streaming in from the hallway was blinding to Labrador after having been trapped in the shadows for so many countless hours. He gave a muffled shout of indignation and embarrassment - he was fully exposed to the man standing in the doorway.

The man stood still and silent for a long moment, silhouetted by the light streaming around him. Finally, he moved into the room, setting a tray loaded with bowls, cups, and utensils on the table before closing the door. The sudden darkness was as blinding as the light had been.

"Well, sweetling," the man mumbled, revealing himself as the man who had put Labrador here in the first place, "how have you been? I apologize for the terrible lighting. Not many windows in this part of the house." The man was rambling, and the sounds of fumbling were evident. "Ah! Got 'em..."

With a swift pop, a match burst into flame, providing marginal illumination. A candle was lit, followed by another. The flickering light was welcome, even if this accursed man was not.

"Now that we have some light... hungry, poppet?" the man threw over his shoulder. He paused, waiting for a response, but Labrador just stared. "Oh. The gag. Ah well..." After moving the tray to the bedside table and relocating the candles, the stranger yanked the gag off, making no attempt at being gentle.

"There. Now, are you hungry?"

Labrador spent a moment just stretching his sore jaw. The man waited patiently for only a moment before reaching out and slapping the young bishop across the face. Labrador yelped as the palm of the man's hand slammed into his face. His head

"I asked you something! When someone asks a slave a question, they would do well to answer."

"I am no slave," Labrador exclaimed, eyes closed against the sting of the slap. Again, however, the hand reached out and slammed into his face.

"Wrong answer, sweetie. You became a slave when you were too stupid to notice the wars. Now, are you hungry or not?"

"Agh! No! No, I am not hungry and have no desire to eat your food, you disgusting wretch," Labrador shouted, flinching at the hit.

The man was silent. A swift glance on Labrador's' part revealed him looking contemplatively at the small bishop. "You know," the man started, "that was not nice. Not nice at all." _There was something **ver**__**y**__wrong with this man_, Labrador thought warily. The violent man leaned forward slowly, stretching his hand out again.

Labrador leaned as far away as he could while bound, expecting another blow to his cheek. Instead, a finger lightly traced it's way along the bishop's smooth jaw. Labrador's eyes flew open as the lightly calloused digit shifted and ran down his neck before sliding across his chest.

"Stop..." Labrador whispered flinching as though he had been hit once more as the finger caressed his nipple. The traitorous little bump stood hard at the attention as the action was repeated despite Labrador's complaint. The bishop's arms jerked in their bonds again.

"Stop!" he whimpered with more urgency this time. The finger lightly flicked his nipple before the man pulled back and stood.

"Seeing as you are so unwilling, sweetie, I guess I'll just have to stop. Maybe a day or two without food or water will change your mind, hmm? Well," the man stretched briefly and picked up the tray, putting out the candles and addingthem to the assortment of items, "we'll see. Until next time, sweetling! Enjoy the view!" The man walked to the door, and, with a sense of finality, pulled the sturdy thing closed. Labrador was again trapped with the shadows, bewildered and confused.

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Thanks for reading!


	4. Rain Interlude

Hah, yeah. It's funny how life catches up with people *sweatdrop*. Sorry for taking so long to update this. In short, Marching Band+Karate+School=No updates for a long time...

But yeah. I'm finnaly posting a chapter (half a chapter? It's more a filler than anything...) Enjoy it. I don't know when the next one will be coming.

Disclaimer: I don't own 07-Ghost. Really.

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The day had dawned dark, oppressive clouds hanging close to the ground. While it was not truly raining over the Barsburg Church, a fine drizzle easily soaked through the clothes of those outside the grand cathedral.

It was dry in the greenhouses as well, the great glass domes deflecting the cold water from their precious plants. It was silent save for the light pattering sound the droplets of water caused, and this proved to be a great point of distress for the greenhouses' only occupant.

Castor, normally so calm and composed, paced agitatedly back and forth through the rows of flowers, seeking the sound of a faint humming or the rustle of clothes of one particular gardener. Having only just returned from a mission in the Third and Fourth Districts, he was still dressed in his casual wear. Not believing the tale Frau had told him, Castor hadn't even stopped by his rooms in his mad search for his violet-haired companion.

What a shock it had been for the red-haired Ghost, to come home only to be told that his friend and companion, the Ghost Profe, had been taken from under their noses. What Frau had told him couldn't have been true. Frau wouldn't have been so careless to have left the small bishop on his own in a notoriously dark area of town, and Labrador would have fought to the death before letting himself be taken against his will.

At least, that was what Castor had though. After searching the through whole church, high and low, he had seen no sign of Labrador. Perhaps... but no. It simply couldn't have been possible.

Frau approached Castor slowly, bearing the look of one who had recently been told of a death among his friends. The redhaired bishop turned to face him slowly, a lost look on his face.

"He just... disappeared? He lost you in the streets and vanished?"

"Yeah. When I saw that he wasn't behind me I went back, but I couldn't find a trace of him. Not a hair, not a footprint, nothing. I looked for a few days, but there was nothing to be found. So I just, y'know, came back. Decided waiting for you would be the best option. Two people searching is better than one, right?"

Castor was silent, contemplative. There was so much to think on...

"Yes. Let's just hope nothing bad happens before we find him."

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Review? Please?


	5. Ravager Ch 3

Ehem, so, back again with another update. Wow. It's been over a year... Um, so I should really be working on an essay right now, but I'm trying to work past serious writers block... Yeah. Oh, this chapter is short. All my chapters are short. Why oh why can't I write long chapters ;-;... Anyway, this chapter really earns the M rating, I believe. Poor Lab. Anyway, I advanced the timeline a good deal, so don't get too confused if things don't make sense. Well, enjoy, if this is your kind of thing. Sanjikuu out!

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With one last agonizing, blissful push, the small plug seated itself inside the small bishop, making him shudder and groan from behind his gag. His muscles all clenched tightly for a moment as the flared bottom of the toy was dragged against his prostate, but the tension only lasted for a moment. Labrador shivered and slowly slid his eyes open, staring into the dungeon with hazy eyes. A glance down showed how much his body had become accustomed to this treatment. His member stood out from his body, darkly flushed and leaking. A chuckle from his captor drew his attention to the man.

"Yess..." he drawled, moving from his spot near the table holding other various tools and toys, "yes...you're learning, sweetie. Masters love responsive pets, you see. Makes them feel..._powerful_." The man softly drew a line up the hardened flesh, spreading the clear fluid about as he went. A sigh and a brief tug against his restraints proved to be the mauve-haired man's only reaction as his head dropped forward in submission. "Yes...we'll have to start advertising you soon. There should be plenty interested..."

A rustling from behind the door in the corner of the room drew the attention of both men. Vaguely frowning, the captor strode over an threw the door open. "What?" he asked of the person outside the room. "What? Really? Hm. Fine." The door was closed again, and the man turned to face Labrador. He studied him carefully from across the room, dragging his eyes up and down his lithe body.

"Boss says we're to give you some...special treatment. Apparently world about you's gotten out already..." he mumbled, approaching the laden table. A brief moment of indecision was followed by the glimmer of metal as he turned around. "This'll be interesting, hun. Try to not move too much," he said, raising the piercing needle for the bishop's inspection.

The scream was still loud, despite the gag.

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Frau's hands slammed into the table. "Castor! It's been two months! He's GONE! He would have contacted up by now if he weren't!"

The chair the russet had been sitting in screeched across the floor as the man jumped to his feet. "He wouldn't be gone if it weren't for you!" Castor hissed, eyes flashing in rage. "You were with him. You lost him. If he's gone, it's your fault!"

"So what, am I a babysitter now? He should have told me he couldn't keep up!"

"Maybe YOU shouldn't have only been focusing on the fucking wars, Frau! Maybe you should have been watching out for your partner!"

"You know what? Fuck this," Frau snapped, turning to leave the room. "You want to waste your life looking? Fine." The door slammed behind him, leaving the room suddenly empty.

Castor threw a swift punch at the wall, snarling with frustration."Damn it!" He collapsed back into the chair, dropping his head into his hands. "I can't give up..."


	6. Outside Ch 4

Wow! Two chapters in as many days! I'm impressed, haha. And this chapter is longer! I want to give a thanks to my reviewers - sorry I couldn't reply personally, but I've been fighting with the system as to whether the link in the email was valid or not x.x. But thank you regardless! So, anyway, I can't really think of anything to talk about for this chapter. It just kind of...happened. I hope you enjoy this one!

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Labrador lay tightly curled on the floor, where he had been unceremoniously dropped after the little session ended. He was finally alone again – though he had despised those long hours in the dark little room at first, he had come to crave the silence and cessation of feeling that came with the shadows. As it was, the bishop was staring incredulously own at the tip of his flaccid member, where the twinkle of bright metal caught the little light and magnified it back to him. It hurt. It made moving hurt. It made breathing hurt. He hated it. The twin bars that had been jammed through his nipples were cold and uncomfortable. The plug that had, admittedly, felt good earlier was starting to make his insides ache.

Finally, the bishop pressed his forehead against the cool floor. "I have to get out..." he mumbled,slowly unfurling himself and moving gingerly to lean against the wall. "I can't take this...I _have_ to get out!" He exhaled slowly, and his eyes fluttered shut, body relaxing.

Unseen, a shadow formed in the room, twisting about to see its surroundings in a new light. It bent slightly before springing up, fazing through the ceiling. A swift glance showed an empty room. Up again – this time, the figure emerged into a room of light. About the shadow people moved, completely unaware of its existence. They seemed focused on a stage set up at the back of the room, on which stood a man talking intently, loudly. A swift gesture, and a man who was more of a boy, brown haired by with gorgeous cerulean eyes, was pushed into the spotlight. Scared eyes stared out into the crowd as his hands scrambled to cover nudity. The shadow looked and saw, noted, and moved on. Nothing could be done. Not yet.

Another upwards push left the being hovering feet above a snow-covered alley. Cold winds shot at terrific speeds between the buildings, driving the white powder into banks against thin walls. A dirty figure wrapped in rags huddled in a corner, struggling to stay warm. She would be dead by morning, the shadow knew.

Making it to the center of commerce for the area was not hard when one was incorporeal, the shadow mused. One did not have to fight through crowds, and buildings were no obstacle. Unfortunately, when the local market was reached, the area was unrecognizable. If the figure had been here before, it did not know it.

It was a run-down part of town. Tall buildings of crumbling plaster lined the streets, and gutters ran to overflowing near the cracking sidewalks. The food in the booths was half-rotted, the breads crawling with maggots. The people were very quiet, ruefully handing over the meager change to pay for products. The shadow saw all this and was sad.

Flying higher now, above the rooftops, the cloaked figure gazed about the horizon. There, off in the distance, was a familiar white gleam, a shining cathedral of white. The shadow shot forward, its conscious screaming out familiar names. _Castor! Frau!_ it shouted, _Fiest! Zehel!_. There was no answer – yet.

Those beautiful tall spires were just taking shape when a strange feeling called to the wayward spirit. An odd tingling, the sensation of sounds not quite heard...

Pain burst behind his eyes as Labrador snapped forcibly back into his body. Above him was incomprehensible screaming, and punishing blows fell on unprotected skin. Dazed and confused, all the bishop could do was lie there taking the beating as he was forced to come to a new realization – he was far worse off than he could have ever believed.

Perhaps going to the impoverished side of town was not the best decision Castor had ever made. The place reeked, and thieves stared greedily out at him from the shadows. The footing was treacherous at best. About him, the poor of the Seventh District tried to make decent livings for themselves.

One of the vendors managed to strike his eye. Though the shacks surrounding his were crumbling heaps of rotted wood, this woman's shack made the honest attempt at being well-kept. As he approached, he saw that the food on the counter looked passable, and smelled far less than foul.

Manning the booth was an old lady, flitting back and forth between goods and oven even as she chatted with the customer currently awaiting food. Castor walked up just as they were ending a conversation.

"So he just vanished?" the woman outside the booth asked excitedly.

"Yes," the old woman replied. "Yes, their boy disappeared as he was walking home. At night, I believe. With eyes that blue, they should have known they wouldn't be able to keep him long. Not here. Take care, Anette," she finished, laying a steaming meat pie before the woman. A word of thanks was passed, and she went on her way.

Castor was amazed. A boy, one of apparently uncommon looks, vanishing at night. There were too many similarities.

"Ma'am," he began, "What is this about vanished children?"

"Children? No, sir. Late teens or older. And he wasn't the only one." The keen old woman stared at him with startlingly clear eyes. "And I guess you know a similar story? A friend went out and never came back? A friend who was remarkably beautiful in some way or another?" At Castor's nod, she sighed, turning to the ovens. "That's a common story of late. I've heard plenty of stories, you know. The best anyone can guess is slavers. There is one tale of it being a warsphile, but let us be true, here. Even in this part of town, the bishops would know if a warsphile were rampant, hmm? Will you be buying anything, dearie?" she finished, turning back and depositing a few more goods onto the counter. When she looked up, the russet man was gone.

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Ah! If you didn't catch it, my little shadow figure was Lab floating about as a ghost. He would have had to make the attempt at some time, no?


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